


Role Model

by morganya



Category: Bandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-07
Updated: 2011-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-20 07:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganya/pseuds/morganya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabe taught him everything he knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Role Model

It really started when William was bent over the bar with Mike, haggling over the set list, and then Siska came back from the bathroom and announced, "Well, Gabe Saporta just showed me his dick."

William put his pen down. Mike paused in mid-gulp of beer. "What?" Either of them could have said it.

"I went to wash my hands and he was standing at the next sink, and I figured I had to introduce myself, and I was like, 'Hey, I'm Adam, with The Academy Is..., we'll be on this tour with you,' and he was like, 'It'll be a long tour, get used to seeing this,' and then he just..."

"Whipped it out?" William said. Mike started laughing. "It's not funny," William insisted. Some other time he would have found it extremely funny, but he wasn't really sure that Siska's mom would be too happy about William letting her fifteen-year-old son get exposed to unfamiliar genitalia.

"It's a little funny," Siska said.

"Does he know how old you are?" William said. Mike kicked his ankle. "Ow."

"Inside voice, dude," Siska said, and William remembered that they were all pretending to be over twenty-one this night. He glanced at the bartender, who seemed otherwise occupied, and shrugged apologetically.

"It wasn't like he was hitting on me or anything," Siska said. "It was just like, nice to see you..."

"And have you met my dick?" Mike finished.

"Basically," Siska said. Mike started laughing again.

William looked down the length of the bar. Gabe Saporta was at the end, doing shots and laughing with one of the waitresses. "Maybe I should talk to him."

"Dude," Siska said.

Mike was already shaking his head. "Don't go up to him. We _talked_ about this."

"I'm cool," William protested. "I'm totally cool."

Siska and Mike exchanged looks.

"Fuck you both," William said. "I'm going to go have a totally professional word with him."

"You make an ass of yourself, I didn't know anything about it," Mike said, and reached for his beer.

William started having second thoughts as soon as he stood up. It wasn't like he was at a loss for words or anything - he had a basic outline planned out, with special attention paid to avoiding any problematic letters, clever and no-nonsense and professional. He probably should avoid thinking about this being Gabe Saporta of Midtown, whose records he'd been listening to since he was fifteen, because he wasn't a kid anymore and this might be his one big chance.

Gabe's back was turned to him as he approached. William swallowed and said, "Hey."

Gabe turned around, impossibly tall with dark curls flopping over his eyes. It was a little weird to see him offstage, like meeting up with a teacher in the grocery store. He offered William a smile that was polite and utterly uncomprehending.

"I'm William," he said. "I'm with one of the opening bands?"

The puzzled look faded. "Oh, right. Matchbox Romance, I know you guys."

William blinked and then forced himself to recover. "It's The Academy Is..., actually."

Gabe stared at him. Then he laughed and clapped William's shoulder. "Oh yeah. Totally. C'mon, I'll buy you a shot."

"I..." William started, but Gabe was already gesturing grandly at the bartender.

"What do you drink?"

"Jack is fine," William said.

The bartender brought over the shot. William knocked it back and said, "I just wanted to say we're all glad to doing this tour with you guys. Especially Adam. I guess you guys met earlier? In the restroom?"

Gabe took another drink. "Little dude, right? Hey, did he tell you that I showed him my cock?"

"He did, actually." William leaned in close. "You know he's only fifteen, don't you?"

He knew an _oh fuck_ look when he saw it. It lasted a minute and then Gabe shook it off like he was shedding skin and smiled brilliantly at him. He shrugged, saying, "Hey, just doing my part. Educating him to life on the road. He traumatized?"

"I'm pretty sure he's seen a cock before," William said. He sort of wanted to stick around and hang out, but his nerve was failing and he didn't want to stutter in front of Gabe. "Well, I'll see you around." He stuck his hands in his pockets and wandered back to Mike. His heart was pounding. He could feel Gabe's eyes watching his back as he walked away.

"How'd it go?" Mike said when he sat back down.

"He's smirking. Must have gone well," Siska said.

"Gabe's probably not going to show you any more body parts," William said. "Sorry if that crushes your dreams, Sisky."

"I've seen enough cock to last me forever," Siska said. "Move over."

*****

"I'm just saying that we need to be cool in front of Midtown," William had told Mike before the tour had started. It was in the apartment, where they'd written the album, and they were watching TV on the couch. "No asking for autographs or acting like a jerk in front of Gabe Saporta."

"Mm-hmm," Mike agreed and took a swig of his beer. "Tell Conrad not to do anything strange, either."

Mike had always been wary around Tom for whatever reason. "He's going to be fine," William said. "Oh! And if it comes up in conversation, nobody says anything about how they loved the last album or what song is their favorite. We're colleagues and professionals, not kids backstage at a concert."

"Dude, I'm not going to go up to Gabe Saporta and be like, 'Ooh, Gabe, Gabe, I love you, Gabe, aw man.'"

"I don't know, Carden." William rolled over on the couch and looked up at Mike. "I wouldn't put anything past you."

"Eat me," Mike said cheerfully. He was generally at his best right before tours started, after everything had been put in place. Before that, he and William averaged at least two screaming arguments a week, but that was behind them for now. Mike offered William his beer bottle. "You're the one with the gigantic crush on Gabe Saporta, Bill."

"But _I_ know how to control myself," William said. "With you, who knows." He took a sip of Mike's beer.

"Right," Mike said. "I don't think I'd like to fuck anyone on tour, anyway. Fuckin' bunks have no room. No privacy."

"You're a traditionalist."

"Haven't you guessed?"

William shrugged. He hung his feet off the end of the couch and watched the TV screen with his cheek touching Mike's thigh. He wouldn't ordinarily do it, but he was tired and Mike had a comfortable lap. "You'll change your mind this tour, I bet. Big time tour bus, thousands of girls trying to give you their number backstage..."

"They try to give _you_ their numbers."

"Yeah, but I'm generous. I share."

"Fucker." Mike poked the top of his head. "So this is the new you? Screwing your way through the states?"

"Totally," William said. "It's Plant and Page all over again."

Mike grunted disbelievingly, but William decided to be magnanimous about it.

*****

Gabe invited William to come hang out after one of the shows. He offered casually, like he was just tossing out invitations to the tour bus to whoever was in the area. But he smiled and called William by name, which made it impossible to say no.

Midtown's bus was empty when William opened the door, which he was thankful for. The front lounge was decorated in PETA posters, cutouts from _Hustler_ and pictures of kittens with mustaches. William nudged the floor with the tip of his sneaker and chewed on a hangnail, not wanting to say anything, until Gabe's voice drifted down from the back, saying, "About time you fuckers got back."

"It's me."

"William? Hey. Come in the back, I'm cutting my hair."

For a second he thought it was some weird euphemism, but then he went to the back lounge and Gabe was standing in front of the mirror, carefully snipping off one lock at a time. He shook his fingers into the open Kroger's bag beside him and grinned at William. "There's beer in the cooler if you want some."

"Great," William said. Gabe frowned at himself in the mirror, tilted his head and snipped off a curl just above his ear. "You know, I think there are hairdressers around."

"Nah," Gabe said. "I'm not entrusting Supercuts with this hair, dude. It looks pretty good, right?"

"Looks like hair, I guess." William cracked the beer open. He leaned against the doorway, doing his best to seem relaxed. "Won't the other guys get pissed if you shed all over the back lounge?"

"Hey, I'm awesome at this. Anyway, someone finds a stray hair lying around, I'll just say it's pubes."

"Oh, gross," William said, laughing.

"You obviously haven't been touring for very long," Gabe said, but his voice was kind. "See, the only tricky part is getting the back. I always practically throw my fuckin' shoulder out trying to deal with it. See?" He contorted into a half-finished pretzel, scissors glinting in his hand.

"You're going to hurt yourself," William said. "Don't do that. Can I help?" He regretted it as soon as he'd said it; he was wearing his contacts but his depth perception was still off, the scissors were meant for righties, and it might not have been a good time.

Gabe turned around and William's first thought was that he was going to say something like _how dare you question my hairstyling prowess_ , but then he seemed to reconsider and said, "Okay," holding the scissors out.

William put down his beer and took the scissors. Gabe said, "Just trim it. If you find any snarls just cut the fuckers out."

The back of Gabe's neck was warm under his fingers. William squinted and angled the blades towards the black curls, and the scissors made a clicking noise.

"Jesus fuck," Gabe said, "What the hell did you just do?"

William's heart turned over. He dropped his hand and took a step backwards.

Gabe looked at him and smiled. "Psych."

"Oh, that's funny," William said. "Real funny. Just for that, I'm going to give you a bald spot."

"No, you won't," Gabe said, and lowered his head to let William continue.

*****

He had an idea of what was going to happen the next time Gabe invited him to come hang out. He tried to unobtrusively leave the bus, but Siska and Mike both started catcalling at him from the lounge while Butcher and Tom were playing cards with just about all of Matchbox Romance, so he forgot about sneaking out and just gave them all the finger.

Gabe was still asleep when he got on Midtown's bus. That was the message William got when he stepped through the door, because Rob and Heath were already hanging out, texting girlfriends and offering him a beer just like they were real live human beings.

"I'll go kick him in the ass and get him up," Rob said after William took the beer. "If he doesn't kill me it should only be a minute."

William said, "I can come back -"

"On second thought, I need someone to play Xbox with," Rob said. "I think you should do that instead."

"He's right," Heath told William without looking up from his phone.

"I'll try to go easy on you," William said, hoping it sounded like a joke and not bragging. Rob just laughed and handed him a controller.

They both lost interest in the game after about ten minutes, so when Gabe came crashing out from the bunks looking groggy and panicked, William was on the couch with Rob telling him how they'd flown down to Florida to record the album.

"Thought I'd missed you," Gabe told him, and then rolled his shoulders and yawned.

"You're a horrible host," Rob told him.

"I'm an awesome host." Gabe slung himself down beside William and immediately stole William's beer. "God, the show sucked last night. Never even made it off the ground."

"The kids weren't feeling it," Heath said from the table. "I thought it was the venue."

"Nah, man, that's not it. I can get them usually by just putting the vibe out there but it didn't happen this time." Gabe looked at William. "You know what I'm talking about, right? Ever had the audience just cockblock you?"

William thought for a minute. He finally figured honesty was best. He said, "I don't know. I get charged up whenever I walk on stage, I guess."

"Kids," Rob said, laughing. Gabe didn't say anything, just stretched out his arm to give William back the beer bottle.

Rob treated Gabe like a spoiled brilliant child who needed to be indulged, which Gabe played to the hilt, teasing Heath and talking a mile a minute. Heath mostly ignored him. When Tyler finally wandered out from the back lounge, he and Gabe immediately launched into what seemed like an ongoing game of who could suckerpunch who the most. Tyler landed one right in the kidney as he was passing to get a drink and Gabe asked Heath once he'd straightened up, "How many points was that?"

"You could hear the impact. Ten."

"Motherfucker."

"We have company," Rob said.

"But we don't _like_ each other," Tyler said, beaming. "What else are we supposed to do?"

"Yeah, what do you want from us, Hitt?" Gabe said. "Sit around playing pinochle?"

"Fine," Rob said with a martyred air. "Do what you want. Who am I to interfere."

Eventually Tyler got bored of the suckerpunch game and wandered off to call his girlfriend. Gabe said, "Fuckin' glamorous life on the road. Yo, Bill, you got someone waiting at home for you? We keeping you away from whispering sweet nothings into the phone?"

"Hmm?" William said. It was the first time Gabe had called him Bill and he liked the way Gabe said it, casually, like he'd been doing it for years. "Oh. No. Not right now."

"You're a smart dude," Gabe said, sounding sincere. "Get all your fucking around done on the tour and then go back to normal when it's over. No harm done."

"That's the plan," William said.

He made a move after Heath and Rob had gone to get food. Gabe looked at him and said, "Feel like sticking around?"

"I do."

It didn't go that far, which he was sort of glad for; he was basically past the agonizing self-consciousness of his younger days, but he still didn't want to take his clothes off in the harsh light of the bus. Gabe just put a companionable arm around his shoulders while William slid a lube-slicked hand under the waistband of Gabe's shorts.

Gabe said, "Have you done this before?"

William thought a second. He'd done some screwing around with Mike in the apartment, usually out of drunken neediness, but he didn't think that was exactly what Gabe meant. Finally he said, "Of course I have. I'm not a monk."

"The way I hear it, monks are into some pretty kinky shit," Gabe said cheerfully. "Are you?"

William closed his hand around Gabe's cock and smiled in reply.

Gabe was quieter than William thought he would be, and he didn't really seem interested in basking in the afterglow, tucking himself back into his shorts quickly and neatly while he was still pulling away. William's impulse was to ask, "So, how was it?" but no matter which way he turned it, it sounded overly plaintive.

Gabe must have seen something in his face, because he knocked gently against William with his shoulder and said, "You're gonna smell like come for the rest of the night. Sorry about that."

"Oh," William said. "Right."

He scrubbed his hands as best he could in the tiny bus bathroom. He didn't want to overstay his welcome, so when he got back out and found Gabe lounging on the seats, he said, "I should get back to the bus."

"Oh," Gabe said. "Yeah, I guess. Yo, you should come hang out some other time. Tyler's not always an asshole. I'll text you or something."

"Okay," William said.

The bus was basically silent when William got back, but he still felt the need to be quiet going back to his bunk. He thought he was doing a pretty bang-up job of it until he was halfway to the bunk, when he heard a rustle and a soft, "Bill?"

William stopped. Mike lay with his face poking out of his bunk, looking up at him. William said, "Hey. Did I wake you up?"

"No. Did you just get back?"

"Yeah. Didn't want to take advantage of their hospitality."

"So what happened?"

The bunk area looked fairly quiet, but he couldn't be sure. William bit into the nail on his index finger.

Mike pulled the curtain back and shoved himself backward to make room. William hunched down and clambered into the bunk, trying to fit his legs into the space.

"So what'd Gabe say?" Mike said.

"He said he'd text me and we'd hang out later."

"It went okay then?"

"Yeah, I think so." He figured _fuck it_ and said, "We messed around a little."

"Dude."

"It wasn't serious. I don't think he's looking for anything else."

"Oh," Mike said. "And you're cool with that?"

"It was enough to just live in the moment, really."

"I bet."

"Look, don't tell Adam or anyone about this, okay? I'll look like...it'll look bad."

"You fucked Gabe Saporta and you don't want to tell anyone about it?"

"It wasn't fucking. It was...I just don't want it getting out."

"Oh. Well, okay, I guess." Mike peered at him. "You really don't think it's serious?"

"Just life on the road stuff," William said, determinedly nonchalant. "I don't think it can be anything else."

*****

Gabe decided that he was hungry and wanted company, so William got a text saying, _Grab yr band and let's get some fucking noodles_. Mike was sitting next to him at the time. Tom had corralled Butcher into doing some photos somewhere, and Siska had already wandered off, so he turned to Mike and said, "We've received an invitation."

"Order vegetarian or he'll have a fit," William told Mike before they went into the restaurant.

"It can't be that big a deal."

William looked at him. Mike rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Gabe was already waiting for them, and he beckoned them over to the table by shouting, "Yo, motherfuckers, over here."

Mike tended to get awkward around people he didn't know well, so William figured he'd have to carry the conversation and he was slightly worried that he wouldn't be able to keep up. He'd forgotten that Gabe talked enough for three people.

The subject of Pete Wentz came up, as it usually did, and Gabe said, "Hey, did he tell you that he hated my guts at first? I thought he was going to break into the van and stab me in my sleep."

"I don't think..." William said cautiously. "I haven't..."

"He told me you were an asshole to him for months," Mike told his noodles, because Mike was awesome at saying the wrong thing.

Gabe said, completely unfazed, "He just said that because he's an asshole. I won him over in the end. It was all mostly for show, anyway. You don't put two big dogs in the same room without them snapping at each other at first, right?"

"Pretty much," William said.

When the bill came, both he and Mike reached for their wallets but Gabe waved them away, saying, "You want to waste your dinky little per diem on this? Put your hands down or I'm going to get offended."

"Yeah, _Bill_ ," Mike said and put his wallet away.

"Thank you, Carden," William said, and headed off to the bathroom. When he came back Gabe was folding the receipt into his wallet and Mike was smiling at the table.

"I like him," Gabe told him at the venue, when they'd closed themselves up into an empty room next to the supply closet. "Carden. He's shy, right?"

William tilted his head and tried to figure out if they'd just had the same meal.

"What?"

It had been a while since William had heard anyone call Mike shy. "He takes a while to warm up to people. Took us years before we stopped trying to kill each other."

"You gotta give me the dirt on that story, man. So did he ever say anything about me? Before we hung out today?"

"We don't exactly sit around having long involved chats about you, Gabe," William said, half-lying. "Did he say anything about _me?_ "

"Well, while you were in the john, he told me I should look out for you," Gabe said. "Make sure nothing bad happened to you. Said you took things pretty personally and you weren't used to being away from home yet."

"Oh, fuck _him_ ," William said, outraged. What the hell did Mike think he was, some fragile ceramic ornament? "I was riding around in a fucking van with my guitar when he was still going to swim meets. And he's only like two months older than me. He didn't even know how to do laundry until I showed him. What the fuck."

"Yeah, I don't know what the hell he was thinking, telling me you take things too personally. Man, was he off."

William grunted.

"He knows we fucked around, right?"

"I had to tell him," William said. "I didn't think it'd be a big deal."

"Dude, you think I care who knows who I fuck around with? Hey, let's go outside and screw on the stage, it'll be awesome."

"I..." William said. "It matters to me. Strangers knowing who I fuck around with."

"Oh," Gabe said. "Oh, I get it. Cool. Want to see what trouble we can get up to in private, then?"

He had to sing, so blowjobs were out of the question, but he was up for anything else. He would have taken it up against the wall, on his back on the floor, twisted up like a pretzel. He wanted the snap of Gabe's hips, Gabe's hands digging into him, fingerprint bruises on the inside of his thighs, knowing they were doing something illicit while everyone else was going about their business, oblivious.

And if afterward he didn't get the chance to lie in the crook of Gabe's arm and talk about the things he liked to talk about after fucking - what to have for dinner or what movie to watch after the show was over - it had to be a fair compromise to make.

*****

Gabe wandered over to their bus for some reason - he was bored, he was antsy, he was in the neighborhood. By a stroke of luck William was alone for once, and it seemed like the perfect time to get into a makeout session in the back lounge.

Gabe was all hands and teeth when he wasn't off in Gabe-world somewhere, but he seemed willing enough to get on with it, and William was still enjoying himself when the door to the lounge burst open and he heard Mike say, "I can't find my fucking picks - Oh."

William shoved himself backwards across the seats, ignoring Gabe's wordless, puzzled noise. He scrubbed his hand across his mouth and said, "Privacy, privacy! _Jesus!_ "

Mike was standing in the doorway, hand on the frame, staring blankly at him. He looked like he had forgotten how to speak.

Gabe laughed softly and straightened up, saying, "Carden, you're a pervert."

Mike glanced at him and back at William. William scowled at him and hoped it got the point across.

"Sorry," Mike said finally. "I - sorry." He shut the door after him.

"You should talk to him," Gabe said. William glared at him and didn't say anything.

*****

The fight started when Mike got into Siska's stash of Pringles and Siska found out. Siska called him a potato chip thief from across the front lounge when Mike got back from having a cigarette. William was reading over Tom's shoulder and Butcher was drawing pictures while the two Ryans of Matchbox Romance looked on. It would have ended there, but Mike decided to be an asshole about it.

"Maybe if you didn't feel the need to hide everything away like it's some fuckin' buried treasure."

"I hide it away because you're a scavenger," Siska said. "It's like you only want things when they don't belong to you."

William knew Mike enough to know when he was about to lose it. There was maybe a five minute interval between when the flush started spreading up his neck and total thermonuclear meltdown. He looked up from Tom's shoulder and said warningly, "Guys."

"Fuck you," Mike said. "Keep your fuckin' mouth shut."

"Guys," William said again, seeing the Ryans exchange mutual _uh oh_ looks.

"Why do you have your panties in a bunch?" Siska said. "Just quit eating my stuff."

"Fuck _you_ ," Mike said. "You're a stupid little brat and you don't know shit."

Siska opened his mouth, but William somehow managed to lose _his_ temper in the space between, because he'd known Siska since before he was in high school and he had enough to deal with. "No, fuck you," he snapped at Mike, "fuck you, don't _talk_ to him like that!"

"Bill, don't," Tom said softly. William opened his mouth to defend himself, but then Siska whirled on him, which he hadn't been expecting, and said, "This is none of your business, asshole."

"I'm trying to help you!"

"I don't want your help," Siska said. "Back off, you're not my fucking father."

"Hey -"

" _Everybody shut the fuck up_!" Butcher said, voice whipcracking through the bus. "You all can put yourselves in timeout for all I care. Just everybody shut their goddamn mouths."

The Ryans were already hightailing it to the back of the bus. Tom was avoiding William's eyes. Siska was glaring at him. William said, his voice thick, "I wash my hands of all of you, then," and stormed off the bus.

He stomped over to Midtown's bus before he knew what he was doing. He was almost to the door to the bus when he decided that he didn't really want to be around other people right now, so he turned around and thought he'd go find a bar to drown his sorrows in. Except with perfect goddamn timing, the bus door opened and Gabe stepped out, whistling.

"Hi," William said dully.

"Bill? Dude, what happened? You okay?"

"My band is a bunch of assholes," William said.

"C'mon," Gabe said. "You need a drink. You need a couple of drinks. Come tell me about it."

He chugged down some of Gabe's vodka and it all came spilling out. Gabe sat and nodded, listening with his chin on his hand.

"...And then Adam told me I wasn't his dad and then I left," William finished.

Gabe refilled his glass. He thought a minute and said, "Well, you _aren't_ his dad, Bill."

"I know that," William said. "I just...I thought he needed me to back him up. He's younger than all of us. He needs support."

"He's fifteen," Gabe said. "He probably doesn't know what he needs. I was way more obnoxious when I was his age and I wasn't even touring, really. He's been living like a twenty-five year old forever, it probably bugs him to get treated like the little kid."

"I guess."

Gabe rubbed his back. "You're trying to do the right thing. But he's _not_ a little kid, you know. The best thing you can do for him is know when to let him deal on his own."

"It's hard when Carden's being a fuckface."

"Yeah, but you and Carden aren't Siska and Carden. I don't know what works for you two, but maybe they have a different vibe. Tyler and I try to kill each other like every week, and Rob's my brother, you know? I can't treat both of them the same."

"I guess." William looked at his hands. "I should probably apologize to Adam later."

"Maybe," Gabe said diplomatically. "You know what you're doing. If you think you were wrong, you gotta just admit it and move on, you know? What they do with that is up to them."

"Yeah," William said. " _Butcher_ even got mad. Butcher never gets mad."

"Sounds like it was a mess," Gabe said.

"It was an unholy mess." William rubbed his knuckles across his eyes. "I just need a minute to think."

"You want to watch TV or something?"

"No," he said. He felt hollowed out. "I'm not fit for human contact."

"Want to go lie down in my bunk for a while?"

"Okay," William said.

Gabe made sure he was safely ensconced in the bunk and said, "I'm gonna be out in the front if you need me."

"Thanks," William said.

Gabe grunted and closed the curtain.

When he got back to his own bus, Mike was playing video games and Siska was looking over his shoulder while eating from what looked like a brand new can of Pringles. William mumbled, "Hi," and passed on through.

Siska joined him in the back after a second. He flung himself down beside William and said, "What's up?"

"I needed to say sorry," William said. "For the...thing."

"You know I know how to handle Mike Carden," Siska said. "He gets stressed out and acts like a dick and then it's done. I've been dealing with him since I was a kid."

"I know," William said. "I just...I feel responsible for you sometimes, that's all."

Siska knocked him with his shoulder. "Is this a good time to tell you that you've been a horrible role model?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Because you have."

"Oh, blah, blah, blah," William said. "Should I go talk to Carden?"

"You know how he is. Don't expect him to be all gooey."

"I wasn't going to," he said, and headed out.

Mike was still staring at the video game. William said, "Mike."

"What," Mike said without looking up.

"I wanted to talk about the thing."

"There's nothing to say. I talked to Adam."

"I know, but -"

"I got nothing to say," Mike said.

William stared at Mike's back, but he didn't look up.

"There are five weeks and thirty-three shows left until we get home, Mike," William said, and turned around.

*****

He thought he'd left his notebook in the lounge, so he spent about twenty minutes flinging pillows around and getting more and more panicky until he noticed the pile of stuff on the table. He went through magazines and CVS bags until he found a moleskin notebook which seemed to be his on first glance, so he picked it up.

He recognized Mike's handwriting when he opened up the notebook. The pages were full of guitar notations and, oddly enough, what looked like lyrics. Mike had always said he was more a music guy than a lyric guy, content to give William verbal input and inspiration. William was reading despite his better instincts when he heard the door open.

He started guiltily and looked up. It had to be Mike. It always had to be Mike. Since the whole Pringles incident, he'd been behaving himself, largely due to his whole I'm-Mike-Carden-I-am-a-rock-I-am-an-island thing, but that was always an uneasy truce.

"Uh," William said. "I found this?"

Mike wordlessly held out William's lyric notebook. "I grabbed this by accident."

"Oh," William said, and took it. He put the other notebook down. "I didn't know you were already working."

"Getting a headstart on the record," Mike said. "How much did you see?"

"It's not bad," William said. "I thought it was mine and I looked. You've just got the one song?"

Mike shrugged. "I guess...have you started writing?"

"I can't write on the road. Maybe I could do something with that thing. You've still got the moon-June-croon rhyme scheme. It's a little simplistic."

Mike didn't say anything.

"Don't give me that look. I said I could maybe do something with it. Rework it."

"I'm not the fucking lyric guy, you know," Mike said. "I never _wanted_ to be the lyric guy."

"Mike -"

"Write your name on your notebook so you stop losing it," Mike said. "I hate that fucking song anyway. I don't want you to do anything with it."

"Okay, okay, fine," William said. "I don't think that -"

"We're not going to use it, okay?" Mike said, and stomped out.

*****

Gabe had taken to just dropping by when he was sick of his band, or because it amused him to scare the shit out of William when he was wandering around the bus in his underwear, thinking he was alone. This time around, he saw Gabe coming, so he waited in the back lounge until he felt the time was right to make an entrance.

When he came out, Gabe was thumbing through Mike's notebook.

"Dude," William said. "That's Mike's, put it down. He doesn't want anyone looking at it."

"I found it in the wastebasket. I don't think he cares who looks at it," Gabe said.

"You went through our trash? What the hell's wrong with you?"

"It was sticking out of the top. I thought I could get some use out of it."

"Good Lord," William said. "Dumpster-diving for writing supplies. You're insane."

"I've done way worse things with garbage," Gabe said cheerfully. "So this was Mike's?"

"I don't even want to know what you've done with garbage," William said.

Gabe shrugged.

"Look, put it down. It's private. He didn't even want me looking at it."

"Yeah, okay." Gabe tossed the notebook back at the trash.

"Sorry. He's just...he doesn't like people looking at his songs before they're done."

"It didn't even cross your mind that maybe he didn't want you to see it because the song's all about you, numbnuts?" Gabe said.

William blinked. "What?"

"He wrote a song about you, Bill. What'd you say when you read it? Did you shut him down?"

"It wasn't about me."

"Okay, so who's the _partner in crime_ , then? Or the _best and only enemy_?"

"Those...those are characters," William said.

"Jesus Christ," Gabe said. "Do you two talk at all?"

"It's...it's not," William said. "Carden's not."

"You're both idiots," Gabe said. "It sounds like he misses the hell out of you."

He wasn't sure what to think. He started to bite his nails.

"Too much sexual tension ruins a band," Gabe said. "Just keep that in mind."

*****

They got a hotel night near the end of the tour. He was meant to be sharing with Tom, but early on he said he was going to go get a drink of water and snuck off to Gabe's room. When Gabe opened the door he looked like he'd permanently checked into Gabe-world, but he didn't say no to William coming in.

The bed was uncomfortable and the foreplay was perfunctory. William lay on his side while Gabe tried to find the right angle for his hips, and he got the distinct impression that neither of their hearts were in it, but they were both doing their best to make this a special occasion.

Afterwards, Gabe went to take a shower and William lay on his back, acutely missing when he was able to lie in bed with someone and talk about nonsense after fucking. He reached for the remote and turned on the television.

He turned it off when Gabe came back. "You sticking around?" Gabe asked.

"For a second."

"Mm," Gabe said noncommittally.

The walls were thin and he could hear banging on the other side. The banging turned to raised voices and finally shouting, and William heard Rob's voice, loud and clear and more agonized than he'd ever heard it, saying, " _Fucking_ , Tyler -" and then the slam of a door.

Gabe was staring fixedly at the ceiling. His jaw was set and his eyes were very dark.

William wondered just how well he knew Gabe and what Gabe hadn't said about himself.

He rolled over and put an arm over Gabe's chest. "This is pussy shit," Gabe said, but he sounded tired and sad. William kissed his cheek and his forehead and his eyes and said, "Try to get some rest, huh?"

"Yeah," Gabe said. "Try." He didn't pull away, though.

*****

Really, he'd known it wasn't going to last. The last night of the tour, Gabe took him out to a bar and bought round after round. It was only when the bartender was calling for closing orders that Gabe said, "You need to go home and get married so I can crash your wedding."

"You'll _come_ to my wedding," William said. "And you're coming to visit next time you're in Chicago. I'll buy you some deep-dish."

"Awesome," Gabe said. "Hey, these were some good times, right?"

It was only because Gabe was more than half-drunk that he was even indulging in nostalgia. William said, "Best tour I ever did."

Gabe entered his number into William's cell phone; William entered his. It didn't feel like a real goodbye, except for the parts where it was, and William supposed he should be grateful for that.

He still staggered back to his bus, for the last night before everyone went home, went into the front lounge and curled into a miserable ball on the couch. He always was bad at these kinds of things.

He heard Mike's flat-footed tread before he saw him. He looked up briefly into Mike's alcohol-red face and said, "Hey..." before curling back into himself.

"Dude," Mike said. "Bill, what happened?" He sat down and gave William's hip a tentative poke with one finger.

"Nothing. Me and Gabe," William said. "We're still friends."

"What?"

"I knew it wasn't serious. It couldn't have been."

"Oh, Bill," Mike said. "You mean he just..."

"It was both of us," William said, and he knew he probably shouldn't but when Mike scooted closer he put his head in his lap.

Mike rubbed his back. "Hey. It's all right." And then, very earnestly, "Would you feel better if I went over there and punched him a little?"

"You can't solve everything by punching, Mike," William said.

"Oh," Mike said. "Well, he doesn't deserve you, anyway."

"You like Gabe, Mike," William said.

"Yeah, but he still doesn't deserve you."

"You're just saying that."

"No," Mike said. "I'm not."

*****

They had a few days at home before they were due to start the next tour. William wandered around the apartment in between doing laundry and packing up, trying to find something that would anchor him in reality. Finally he called Mike and said, "I'm going crazy."

"I'll get the beer," Mike said.

After most of the first six-pack and a couple of shitty B-movies, William started to relax. Mike was sitting beside him, nudging the empty can on the table with his bare foot, laughing a little at the television.

"I know that song you wrote was about me," William said. "Wasn't it?"

Mike looked at him. "You're crazy."

"I _know_ , Mike."

Mike said nothing for a while. "I didn't think you'd read it," he said finally. "I thought, if I got it out, I could deal with you not being there anymore. I didn't, really."

"I was always there, Mike."

"Not like I wanted," Mike said. "I didn't know. I didn't know I felt like that."

"Do you still feel that way?" William said. "Or was it just life on the road?"

"Always," Mike said. "I'm always going to feel like that."

"That's what I thought," William said and kissed him.


End file.
